


Sloth

by o0kaymawn0o



Series: Sins [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Seven Deadly Sins, Sleeping Dean, Sleeping Sam, Spooning, Wincest - Freeform, sloth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0kaymawn0o/pseuds/o0kaymawn0o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in the Sins series--Sloth: Sam and Dean can't be bothered to leave the bed they're in--to tired to do anything but lay together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sloth

Realistically, one person will only possess two to three sins in their life.

They possess all seven.

They approach at different times, without any warning or sign.

Currently, the Winchester’s cannot be bothered to do anything, other than laze around in bed, rolling over as they stir in their sleeps.

To be fair to their situation, they have just finished with a hunt that took the breaths out of them. They suffered a few deep wounds. It wasn’t their intentions to go to the hospital. Handling it on their own is what they do.

If Dean dislocates a shoulder, Sam pops it back into place.

If Sam is sliced open, Dean will sew him back together, patching up the wound and leaving a gentle kiss on each scar, reassuring Sam that he will be okay.

That is how they deal with things.

Always on their own.

No guidance.

Just themselves, the clothes on their backs and the supplies they bring with them.

Dean snores lightly, shifting onto his side and throwing a comforting, yet strong arm over Sam’s front, flatting his hand against Sam’s abdomen, deaf fingertips making small, calming circles on the plain of flesh.

Sam mumbles assent, soft brown locks falling over his eyes as his head ducks from the pleasing motion against his skin.

A small smirk inches the skin of Dean’s lips—pleased with Sam’s approval.

They sleep through the day, into the afternoon, and cross into the evening.

Sam’s the first to return to the world of the aware, not having the heart to wake his older brother up, so peaceful in his state of rest.

Instead, he cradles his hand around the back of Dean’s head, gripping the short hair gently, pulling just that little bit which he knows will drag a grateful breath from the shorter man.

Dean does not disappoint, stretching out in his subconscious, nestling further into Sam’s side, his lips whispering promises along Sam’s chest, declarations of what he will do to the younger man later when he’s able to.

Sam grins at that, eyes blinking out of time and a long yawn leaving his mouth.

He’s supposed to be researching for a new case, however he cannot be asked to leave this bed. It’s not a comfortable bed. Not at all. With Dean next to him, any bed is a comfort, a rock holding him in place, convincing him that he will always be safe.

“Dean,” he mumbles groggily, voice thick with sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Sammy,” Dean growls lowly, rubbing his nose on Sam’s side, lightly head-butting the younger Winchester.

Too exhausted to argue with that, Sam shoves Dean onto his back, locks one knee against Dean’s hip and nestles his head into the crook of Dean’s neck, the gentle rising and falling of Dean’s chest lulling him to sleep in mere minutes.

 


End file.
